People think that real life is way more boring compared to the movies, but that wasn't the case for these people! They suddenly found themselves in a high-stakes mystery, and the answers were either way too silly or completely deranged. Ya can't make this stuff up! Content has been edited for clarity.
"When I was about twelve, my parents went out for dinner, leaving me home alone. We lived out in the country, on a private road with only three other houses, surrounded by cow fields and wooded areas. I went into the the kitchen and glanced out the window towards the trees. Right there in the fading light, I could see a person walking slowly through the woods. They were wearing all black, moving slowly, and appeared to pause behind trees. My heart started pounding so hard in my ears. I couldn’t hear anything else, and I was weak and shaky from the fear. I froze and just watched them. Would they come to the house? Where were they going?! This was before cell phones, but I suddenly remembered my mom had left the number of the restaurant by the living room phone. Slowly, I made my way towards the living room, trying to watch this stranger in the woods.
Just as I entered the living room, all the lights in the entire house went out. By this time, it was nearly dark outside. I started openly sobbing, and in the dark I heard a weird boom-like noise. That was it. I ran to my parents room, hid under their bed, and sobbed. That’s where my mom found me hours later. It probably didn't actually take hours, but that's exactly what it felt like. Well, it turns out the stranger in the woods was a stupid cow that had busted through a fence. The lights going out was from an accident a few miles away that hit the power line. And the boom was the pilot light in the gas stove. Man, I have never been that scared in my life though!"
"I was free-diving in about twenty-five feet of water. We were nine miles from shore, down at the Hen & Chickens Reef outside of Tavarnier Key. We anchored about a hundred feet from the reef. I was sixteen. I had an amazing (to me) underwater disposable camera. I would dive to the bottom, wait as long as I could for a good shot, take a picture or two, and then go back up for air. Back then, I could hold my breath for about three to four minutes if I did everything perfectly. I got a few pics of sea turtles, a grouper, an awesome eel, and a bunch of other stuff. So one time I go down, find a fish that looked like Dory from 'Finding Nemo', and I was trying to time my camera click at one of her swimming pauses, when she suddenly just bolts away into the reef. 'Huh, guess I scared her,' I thought for about two whole seconds. But everything had bolted for the reef, even the eel I had gotten way too close to for a picture was hiding. Realizing this is the part in the movie where the shark rips the first person to shreds, I turn around nice and slow to discover that not two feet behind me was a seven foot long Great Barracuda, with a body as big as one of my giant bicycling thighs. There were four more behind him, a bit further away, but he was just DETERMINED to see what I was doing at HIS reef.
I stay turned around, and slowly bring the camera up, and take picture after picture, desperately hoping that at least ONE of them come out as amazing as what I was seeing. They did not, not a single one. The whole time I'm taking pictures, this shark is drifting closer, not swimming really, just using some light tail flicks. I couldn't tell if he thought I was something else or if he thought I was going to feed him. I put the camera in my dive pouch, which was a little mesh bag that attaches to your belt. I used mine mostly for trash I found on the reef. I somehow decided to see if he would let me pet him. I almost did and got stupidly close. But the way he looked at my hand told me it wasn't the best idea. I wish I had, then I would either have a perfect ending to the story or at least a cool scar. It was awesome. I really want to go back one day. I haven't been back to the sea since then. It's been too long. Hope you like the story, I have never gotten to tell it before."
"I was involved in this wilderness survival class in the Boy Scouts, and when we slept in our shelters overnight, I had a lot of trouble sleeping. When I woke u the very next morning, everyone and our teacher were nowhere to be found! Better yet, I totally forgot where the exit to the pathway was, so I was completely stuck in an empty glad surrounded by trees, with no way to get out. How exciting! MY troop just totally forgot about me somehow! I ended up finding my way out of the glad after about thirty minutes. That was when the teacher noticed how shaken up I was and invited me inside the staff area, so I could warm up around the fire. I had a buddy as well, but he seemed to have forgotten me! We had a nice, civil talk when I found him. Yeah, I decided that I didn't want to stay with that troop for very much longer after such a nightmarish ordeal!"
"We need to talk about Brinkby, Arkansas. Twenty-five years ago, my ex-husband and I were traveling from Nevada to West Virginia via car. In Arkansas, we drove through this little town called Brinkby. It was late spring, warm, and still light outside. We were hungry and tired and decided to get some dinner so we could stop for the night. Brinkby initially seemed like a charming little town. We went thru the local Mickey D's, and that's when things started getting weird for us. While we were ordering, we heard what sounded like a shot followed by a woman screaming. I know we heard it because we both looked at each other and were so confused at the same time. Then we looked at the middle-aged woman taking our order. She didn't bat an eye and had absolutely no expression on her face. When my husband asked her if she had heard that, the only thing she said was, 'Will there be anything else?' Ummm, no thank you.
After we paid for our food, we drove down this nice tree lined main street. Not really well-off, but it was definitely well-kept. No fancy cars, but no rust buckets either. And no people. At that time of year, kids should have been out playing or riding bikes or something. People should have been walking that lovely street. Nothing. No animals, no birds. No other cars on the road. No sounds. Just nothing, except for a STRONG feeling of being watched. We grew more and more uneasy. Finally we found an old motel, with the vacancy sign lit up, and lights on inside. No cars were in the parking lot. Still no one to be seen, and no movement inside. My ex and I sat in the car for a minute, just looking at this place. At the exact same time, we turned to each other and said, 'Absolutely not.' I was certain that if we stayed the night there, we would be staying there permanently. There was just this palpable feeling of evil and fear that I had never experienced before, nor have I felt since. I'm not one to always be tuned in to the atmosphere around me, since I kind of live in my own little bubble, so this was really intense for me.
As we drove away, we both felt the dread physically lift from the car. If it had just been me, I would have chalked it up to silliness. But my ex was in the military, and honestly not much rattled him, especially very intangible things like this. We simply knew we were in danger. He told me later that it felt like we were the characters in a horror movie who made it out alive, but bloodied, limping down the road, holding each other up for support. Despite being exhausted, we purposefully drove another two hours before stopping for the night, just to be as far away from that place as we could. I have never been back to Brinkby, Arkansas, and I have no desire to ever do so."
"I was hanging out alone at home listening to music in the living room. The house was single level ranch, and I was twenty at the time. My sister came home and noticed someone popping their head up, looking in the a large living room window. She was a bit wasted, so I thought that she was imagining it. Nevertheless, we decided to close and lock all the windows and sleep in same bedroom. I went to back bedroom at the other end of the house to lock the window. I found it open with the screen removed from the tracks, suggesting that someone tried to get in from outside.
I freaked out. Given music I was listening to was loud, I would not have heard someone enter and approach until they were upon me. I guess they heard my sister come home, came around front to look in window, and then took off. It creeps me out to know this person might have watched me from front window without my noticing, and then proceeded to back window to break in. I always wonder what would have happened if my sister didn’t come home when she did. I don’t think robbery was the intent, if it was clear I was in the house."
"When I was a kid, I spent a few years living on a property with my grandparents and great-grandparents. It was way up in the back country, down a dirt road, one of a few old properties nestled in the national park. We were fairly isolated, but we often had issues with feral dogs. Pig hunters would (illegally) hunt in the national park, and if their dogs got wounded, they would just turn them loose in the park. The surviving dogs would form into feral packs, and they would attack livestock. My Grandpa’s neighbor was a bit of a nutter. He used to sit at his fence and take potshots at strange cars that came too close to his gate. Aside from that, he was a really sweet old guy and he was always nice to me. I used to ride my bike to the school bus stop, and on the way home, I would always stop for a chat. I don’t think I ever saw him without his old Lee-Enfield weapon in his hand.
I was 12, and I had picked up a part time job at this local bakery in town. It was just a few hours a week, after school. But it meant that in the winter, I was sometimes riding home after it got dark. And foggy. It was a little eerie at night. I was riding my bike home in the dark one night after my shift ended. I came around the corner and saw something hanging in the trees. Lots of somethings. Lining the road. Were they ghosts? It turrns out the explanation made way more sense, but it was just as scary. The old neighbor next door has spent a few weeks shooting every pig dog that he could find, and then he would hang them up in the trees along the road outside of his property. It was so freaky, to say the least. How did my grandpa live next to this weirdo for so long?!"
"I was only twenty-three, and one night I was driving home from work, listening to this upbeat disco song. I pulled up to a red light, and I saw this guy on a motorcycle coming up next to me in the adjacent lane. I rolled down my window, in order to compliment his bike when he pulled to a stop. He didn't. He ran the red light. He hit a car that was going at least fifty-five miles an hour. His motorcycle shatters apart. He goes flying and hits the hood of another car. He landed to the ground, rolling into the curb, without his helmet anymore. The car that he hit with his motorcycle was completely totaled. I had to step over this man's body to talk to the police who showed up quickly on the scene. This man was still alive when the police got there, thank goodness. I regret not holding his hand to comfort him. It was just a totally normal day, and all of a sudden, it felt like the rug was pulled out from behind me. That motorcyclist was only eighteen! Honestly, this was probably the worst thing I have ever seen in my entire life. I have watched a lot of videos of similar accidents before, but it is not the same as seeing it happen right in front of you. That grisly scene, combined with that disco music, mad the whole thing so absurdly horrifying. I wanted to laugh, because I had no idea how to react to the whole thing."
"When I was about thirteen, I had to stay home alone every day after school, while my parents worked. One day there was a knock at the door. I didn’t answer obviously, because I was just a kid, and whoever it was started slowly trying to turn the locked doorknob. I called my mom after they 'left', and while I was on the phone with her, the back door started getting kicked down. As I was frantically trying to tell her I needed help, the phone call dropped, and I just had to run. Luckily, my family's house had an alarm system. As soon as it started going off, it scared off this mystery person. I was luckily able to run to my neighbor's house for help, but we still to this day have no idea who it was!
I can imagine something like this has happened to lots of people, so I would be interested to hear more peoples' stories. We had a couple break-ins before this but nobody was home, along with some kids throwing rocks through our windows in the middle of the night when I was in third grade! Crazy stuff out in the suburbs!"
My dad came home completely high, which wasn't totally unusual. When I, sixteen years old at the time, wouldn't let him in my little brothers' room, we got into it. This also wasn't unusual. My dad just wanted to 'say goodnight' to my brother, but I didn't buy it. He was trying to force his way past me, and he’s at least two times my size on a good day, so I just tried to divert his attention to steer him away from my brothers. It wasn’t hard to get him angry about something else, and he carried me rather than dragged me outside, I was trying to get away, but I just got slammed into the wall for my trouble. In our neighborhood, nobody’s going to call the police on you, so he wasn’t worried about taking it outside to avoid a little extra property damage. I don’t remember what he was yelling about and I don’t really care.
My older brother, who was eighteen at the time, got home from work, maybe a few minutes into all of this, and I remember him coming down the street at a dead run and basically just barreling into my dad to tackle him off me. My brother’s a pretty wiry guy, but he has some muscle on him, and is a much better match for our father. My dad pulled out a weapon, and I panicked and tried to take him down from behind. I stomped on my dad's arm enough to get the weapon out of his hand. I don’t even remember who was hurt and how at that point. I can place things looking back but all I remember is a ton of adrenaline. I’m not even sure if I was really scared. I know that some of our neighbors were out on their porches watching. That’s how people tend to react to this sort of thing here. Between my brother and me, we got our dad out cold after a couple good hits, but we got at least as good as we gave.
My brother would be next to me and I would blink, and he would be gone, I couldn’t really hear anything except myself breathing, like I was underwater or something. In the year since, my brother has filled me in somewhat on the details, so as far as I can piece things together, this is what happened. My brother checked to make sure our dad was really unconscious. Apparently I was vaguely coherent. My brother ran inside, told our little brothers to hide, and not to leave their room no matter what. When he came back outside, he knew that he needed to call the cops. We needed help with this harrowing experience. My brother and I had always worked hard to avoid being separated from each other and our brothers, so we knew that could be a huge risk. My brother had a very risky idea for the both of us.
My brother got me up, slid me into the driver's seat of our dad's car, and he told me to step on the gas and keep driving until I crashed. I don’t remember this but apparently the message got through. I think I hit someone else’s car pretty hard, as they came down the street the other direction. My brother called 911, reported the car accident, and that he and my dad had gotten into a bad physical fight. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. They wouldn't let me see my brother or father, and I feared that the worst had already happened I learned later that both of them had been arrested. Both ended up actually getting sentenced as well! I visit my brother as much as I can, but physical contact is never allowed. My plan right now is to take this story to a local non-profit that re-evaluates the cases of those who were wrongfully convicted. Hopefully, based on the true circumstances of my case, my brother can at last receive a lighter sentence for trying to save me from being permanently separated from him and our family."
"My parents were once robbed while they worked the night shift at the clinic. The due who robbed them had a weapon. My father was hit with the butt of the weapon, and my mom was chained up to some furniture. Luckily, that was the worst of it, but it traumatized my mom so bad that she developed PTSD, and she started becoming paranoid of everyone and everything. She quit her job and would stay indoors all the time. She would lock every window, door, and everything else she could think of. We lived in a plot surrounded by a stone fence where my father's side of the family lived, and we rented the apartment above their garage while our house was being built right next door.
One night, after making sure everything was locked, we went inside for supper, at around 8 p.m., when we start hearing someone screaming and knocking on the garage door like a mad man. Fifteen minutes had passed, and they wouldn't give up. My mom was scared out of her wits for herself, but also for her kids, including my older brother, me, and my little brother who was around four back then. We were the only ones with her at the time. The banging and screaming stopped for a minute, but then this crazy person starts throwing stones over the fence and into our sliding doors, still hollering like a monkey in a fight. My mom can't take it anymore, so she instructs us to put on a jacket and go out into the house being built to hide. We go inside the construction site, barely able to see ahead because she was afraid to turn on a flashlight. She tells us to tuck ourselves into a corner of the smallest room (a bathroom now) and grab hold of any steel poles we see lying around to defend ourselves. She also instructs my older brother to climb on her shoulders to see if there's anyone down the street. Her plan was to have us climb over the wall and go to a friend's house.
My little brother and I are clutching these steel poles for dear life, and it's so quiet that we were able to hear my brother whisper that there is a man walking down the street towards us. He can't see who it is. So then my mom puts him down, hands him another pole, and tells us to keep real quiet. A few more minutes pass, and we hear nothing, so my mom decides to take a peek herself. And as she is preparing to hoist herself up, the shadow of a man in a long cloak hurls himself over the wall where we are. I'll never forget that sound of my mom's scream of sheer terror. It was pure luck that the shock of this shadowy man and my mom's scream made us freeze for a second, or my uncle would have been beaten, probably to death, by steel poles.
It turns out he had forgotten his own key and he couldn't get in, so instead of resorting to ringing the doorbell like any other sane person would, he started hurling himself against the door, screaming, throwing stones, and then climbing the fence of our adjacent house to get in. Then, as if that wasn't enough, he started shouting at us for locking the door when he hadn't arrived yet. None of us slept that night. My mom was a sobbing mess and my dad was furious with my uncle for his behavior, and he refused to apologize until much later. He always had anger management issues. We moved into the country side not a month after."
"When I was sixteen, I did a one year high school exchange program to Japan. When I arrived, it turned out my host family was in a Christian sect. They informed me that they had decided to host me because I came from a 'Christian country'. I come from a progressive European country, which is certainly not very religious. They used me as their housekeeper, I had to get up at five in the morning to do laundry and other chores. My host mom was decidedly not well mentally. Once, she screamed at me for an hour for putting a towel 'too close to the toilet' (in the cupboard for towels, mind you). She also hit her six year old daughter and berated her for not being good enough in school, even though the kid was dyslexic. The stay became more and more terrifying. My host mom kicked her daughter out of her own bedroom for me to stay in, because I was 'smarter' than this six year old. My clothes were taken away, and I was forced to wear 'Christian clothes', which included preppy skirts, light colors, but never any pants. I was not allowed to brush my hair within view of anyone, because the act was 'dirty'. My host mom was a friend of my contact in the exchange organization, and my calls were under surveillance from my host mom, so I couldn't reach out to anyone, and when I did, I was told that I was lying.
Since my host sister was being abused, she was not doing well. I tried to be kind to the girl, and she felt very safe around me, I think. One day, I had taken her home from school. Host mom was still at work. The little girl just lost it for some reason, started screaming, crying, and hitting me. It was intense. I was sixteen and had no idea what to do, since she was acting like an injured animal. After a while of this, I went into the bedroom and closed the door, because she was being so aggressive towards me. I hear a commotion in the kitchen, and I got worried that she hadn't calmed down, but rather was trying to put on the gas stove or something dangerous that could hurt her. I open the door and look out down the hallway. What I see is straight out from a horror movie. This little Japanese girl is running towards me in her Catholic school girl uniform, holding a huge knife and screaming at the top of her lungs. I bolt shoeless out of the apartment. Sakura is running after me with the knife. The elevator doors barely manage to close as she is stabbing the doors with the knife. Most of all, I remember her eyes. They were completely wide, black, and blank. It was like she was in a different world.
I spent several hours sitting in the lobby, crying until my host mom got home. What happened afterwards was completely surreal. I refused to go back into the apartment. After hours of arguing, the contact person in the exchange organization was finally called, and I demand to be put somewhere else right now. The lady finally complies, and I get convinced to go back into the apartment to wait for her to pick me up. My host mom hits and screams at her daughter. Then she instructs me to sit on a kitchen chair in the middle of the living room. I am not allowed to move, and the host mom gets down on the floor and rolls around screaming and crying for me and God to forgive her. This went on for hours. She was completely psychotic, and I was scared out of my mind. I got picked up and placed in a different host home. The three months I lived with this 'Christian family' was never spoken of again."